The first of 4 parts. A short story, as yet untitled.
Suggestions for a title will gladly by entertained.
Jason sprinted up the front steps to the apartment and unlocked the front door. He threw down his backpack and tossed the keys on the side table.
“Penny, where are you?” he called. There was no answer. He wandered through the kitchen and around the corner glancing around for her, then he looked up. There she was hovering in the upper corner of the living room by the high window that looked out into the small side garden. She had a bag of Cheetos snagged on a hook next to her. She was dreamily licking the orange powder off her fingers, and then reaching for another one.
His shoulders slumped in disappointment and his face took on a grim look.
“I thought we agreed, no hovering in the evenings.” He said in an exasperated tone.
“I had a hard day.” She said pulling another Cheeto out of the bag.
He sighed as he flopped on the couch so he could look up at her without craning his neck.
“You know how I feel about this Penny, we have talked about it a million times. It’s not good for you to hover so much. You know what can happen.
You’ve seen all the studies, watched all the documentaries about what it can do to your bones and your muscles. You know the risks, how can you be so cavalier about it?”
“Oh but Jason, it’s so wonderful to be weightless, to glide around where you want to without all that effort, and besides, it makes you feel so dreamy and serene. Why should I clomp around on tired feet at the end of the day when this is so much more comfortable? Want a Cheeto ?” She unhooked the bag from the wall and tossed it down to him. It landed near the couch spilling a handful of them out onto the rug. He swung his legs off the couch and scooped them up and threw them back in the bag.
He got up and went into the kitchen and put them on the counter.
He decided to ignore the hovering issue and asked her,
“What’s for dinner?”
“Oh, I don’t know, we could have the leftover Chinese in the fridge.” She answered absently.
“Then come on down and I will heat it up.” He said hoping to get her to the table without a fight.
She sighed in an exaggerated way and slowly began to drift down to the floor, her legs still crossed lotus style until she was about 3 feet off the floor and then unfolded herself and stood solidly on the floor. She walked into the kitchen pouting and wincing like her legs hurt.
“Are you sore again?” he asked in a mildly concerned voice.
“A little, she replied, the doctor gave me some exercises to do, but they are so hard. I don’t want to do them tonight, maybe I will start tomorrow.
Are there any noodles left?” She peered into a couple of the containers and found the one with noodles. She stuck them in the microwave and punched the buttons. Jason found the stir fried chicken and got two plates out of the cupboard. As he turned around to get forks out of the drawer he looked down and saw that Penny was hovering an inch off the floor, hoping her fuzzy socks would conceal it.
Inwardly his heart sank. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. It was just so hard watching someone you love doing something that you knew in the long run they would be very sorry for. For the hundredth time he wished fervently that the hover lobe had never been discovered. He silently cursed Dr. James R. Wolfe, now dead and gone. What a mixed blessing he had left as his legacy to humankind.
To be continued. . .